A Song For The Dead
by MichelleJoy
Summary: Daryl is not a nurturing man. The girl he found, and ultimately saved, doesn't believe this one bit. Daryl/OC
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Walking Dead fic. And, obviously, it's Daryl/OC. I would absolutely love and appreciate feedback! Good and bad!**

**Just a little side note: POV will switch around a bit, but only from 1st to 3rd. **

**It's a short beginning, but I would love to continue it given that enough people like it.**

**Thanks, and I hope you enjoy! :) **

**I do not own the Walking Dead. Only characters you do not recognize.**

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><p><em> "Just do it, Brin!" he nearly screamed. I didn't bother wiping away the tears that were quickly cascading from my eyes as I gripped onto the shovel he had pressed into my hands moments earlier. <em>

_ "No," I cried desperately as I repeatedly shook my head. "I can't!"_

_ "Do it now, Brinley!" he cried desperately. "You do it now, or you do it later."_

_ "Please," I begged while sobbing._

_ "I'm asking you to help me, Brin. You have to do it now, before I come back and hurt you."_

_ I looked down at my brother who was lying on the linoleum floor of the convenience store, blood seeping from his side. Beside him lay the motionless body of a walker whose head I'd been forced to skewer._

_ I looked into my brother's eyes and for the first time I saw fear. It'd been months since the outbreak and he had stayed strong for the two of us. Until now. _

_ "You have to, now," he said calmly. I nodded and took in a few ragged, deep breaths and stepped over my brother, place a foot on either side of him, and he tightly grabbed onto my bare calves. _

_ "On 3, okay?" he instructed calmly. I sputtered out a soft sob, but nodded none the less. _

_ "I love you, James," I said as I trembled, lifting up the shovel in my hands and not breaking eye contact with him._

_ "Love you too, Brin," he sniffed lightly. "Now, remember, you've gotta hit the brain."_

_ I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as I heard him count down. "One," he said with a strong voice._

_ "Two," I cried and felt his hands grip my legs even tighter._

_ "Three-"_

_ I pursed my lips tightly and screamed as I head the sickening crunch and felt blood splatter against my already dirty flesh. I fell to my knees, sobbing so hard I could hardly breathe, landing into his blood._

WDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWD

Daryl Dixon was not the kind of man you would call nurturing. In fact, some- if not most- would take his disregard for selfishness. It was that in and of its self that made Daryl the man that he is. The camp didn't have his back; hell his own brother barely had his back, so Daryl watched his own.

He tried though. He fed the camp; he went on hunting stints for days just to bring back a line of dead squirrels for those ungrateful beings. He watched out for them, staying up at night to keep an eye out, but no one noticed, being too caught up in the fact he didn't like to converse all that much and the fact his brother was more or less borderline sociopathic.

They judged him, the others in the camp; thinking he must be just like his brother Merle. But they were wrong. The similarities stopped with the ability to hunt and track well. Merle was a loud, racist, coke-head, pill-junkie asshole. Everybody knew it, and they all knew he didn't play well with others. But, Merle was Daryl's brother and that meant more than anything else. 'Blood was thicker than water' he'd tend to say; like it was something to excuse all of the bad behavior.

And Daryl was no saint, he'd often remind himself. Most of the judgments and assumptions of the other survivors were called for. He was rude, standoffish, and all around unpleasant, most of the time. The problem was that no one gave him a chance. No one wanted to believe that he wasn't so bad on the inside.

So when Daryl Dixon returned to camp early from another hunting session with a petite, and very bloody, unconscious girl in his arms, you could say the camp was more than surprised.

He had found her while walking the tree line of the back roads near camp. He had been tracking a deer for miles and was rather ticked off when spotting, what he assumed to be, a walker coming up the windy dirt road. Daryl had stopped and brought his favorite crossbow up; locked, loaded, and ready to fire one straight into that filthy bastard head.

He watched her for a moment; why, he didn't know. Nearly head to toe, of what could've been an attractive woman, was splattered and smeared with blood; even her dark hair was matted with it. She was moving slowly, dragging a backpack in the dirt behind her. Maybe that's why he had stopped. Most walkers don't carry things with them. And, most zombies don't fall to their knees with the saddest fucking cry that Daryl had ever heard. She had completely crumpled to the ground then, passing out.

More than curious, Daryl jogged out of the trees and approached what he then realized was an actual, living and breathing woman, not a walker. He nudged her with his foot, turning her onto her back when she parted her eyelids and stared straight into his crossbow. He noted the sorrow, the pain, and regret in her eyes as she parted her lips.

"Please, kill me," she spoke so quietly, he had to strain his ears to hear.

Daryl Dixon wasn't a nurturing man, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let her die out here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Holy Beans. **

**I mean, really the amount of feedback I received was spectacular! I can't give enough thanks to those of you who alerted and favorited and reviewed! I am so grateful!**

**This chapter is far from exciting; the build up is excruciatingly painful haha :) **

**I just wanted to get this out for those of you who asked for it!**

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><p>Waking up wasn't really something I had expected. For some reason I had figured I'd be dead, seeing as I had asked a total stranger to be the one to kill me. Either that or I'd been dreaming, or he'd been a mirage. Or she, I wasn't actually sure since I'd only seen and large black crossbow.<p>

Damn, I must've been dreaming.

Feeling rather delirious, I sat up and took in my surroundings with slight panic. I was on a bed, which tipped me off first that something had happened that I completely missed. I realized quickly that I was in someone's camper, which ultimately meant I had come across other survivors. Or, they came across me. Once again, I'm not really sure.

I quickly got myself off of the bed I had been laying on and cautiously stepped down the narrow hallway, feeling like I'd been thrown back into the 70's from the orange curtains and old appliances. My ears perked at the sound of voices and followed them. The sound was like music. I hadn't heard people talk in longer than I would like to admit.

I reached the front of the RV and stepped into the open doorway to see a few people standing right outside while conversing. I first made eye contact with a woman not much older than myself with long wavy brown hair and large hazel eyes.

"You're awake," she smiled, causing the other three, two men and a short haired woman, to look my way.

"Um, hi," I spoke lightly. I was feeling highly unsure and nervous, but at the same time relieved to see other healthy and surviving people.

"I'm Lori," the brunette spoke again. "Please don't be frightened. One of the others in the camp found you earlier this morning and brought you back. You're safe here."

I continued to stare at her for a moment before nodding lightly. "Okay," I said. "Thank you."

Lori looked to the man standing next to her and I notice he was a tall and muscular- not to mention rather intimidating- Hispanic man. "I'm Shane," he introduced with what one would call a friendly smile, but I wasn't buying it.

"This here's Dale," Shane continued while introducing the other male, an older man with a white beard and an old looking boat hat that made me smile.

"And this is Carol," he said again and the woman next to me smiled lightly.

"Hi," I said hesitantly, ringing my hands. "I'm Brinley. Thank you, y'know, for helping me out."

"You'd have to thank Daryl for that one," Dale smiled. "He found you out on the back roads."

"There's more of you?" I asked. Surprise, excitement, and fear all bubbling inside my gut.

"Just a few," Lori smiled.

"That's great," I smiled hesitantly.

"Let's go get you fed and comfortable, alright?"

_WDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWD_

I looked up from the small plate of canned beans that Carol had given to me to see a gruff man with a crossbow staring at me skeptically. I looked at him with a bit of shock, seeing him holding the weapon that had been the last thing I remember before passing out earlier. So, I guess I hadn't been dreaming. I asked this man to kill me.

Jesus Christ.

I kept still and held his stare, noticing how deep blue his eyes were and the scrutiny that lay beneath his gaze. The man glanced around with a light scowl before looking back at me.

"Yer up," he stated as he sat down a couple chairs away from me, placing his crossbow between us.

"Yeah," I spoke quietly while eyeing the large, familiar weapon. I moved my gaze up to the man with sandy brown hair that was matted with sweat in places, and sticking out in others, and watched as he ran his thumb across his lower lip quickly.

"'m Daryl," he muttered, keeping his gaze on the low fire in front of us.

I nodded before placing my hand out to him. "Brinley," I said with a ghost of a smile. Daryl glanced down at my hand and raised an eyebrow, causing me to slowly retract it and tense up.

"…Thanks for, y'know, not killin' me," I told him while glancing back down to his crossbow.

"Almost did," he stated. "All that blood on ya, though' for sure you was bit."

"But you brought me back here instead?"

"I don' believe in optin' out," he shrugged apathetically. "Wasn' gunna help ya do it."

"Well, I appreciate it," I nodded lightly. Clearing my throat, I turned from Daryl and gazed at the fire. "I wasn't really in the right frame of mind."

"Noticed," he grunted.

This time I raised a slim eyebrow towards rough man beside me. "Don't talk much do you?" I asked lightly and took another bite of my now cold beans.

"Don' need to," he muttered before standing back up and grabbing his crossbow. I brought my gaze up and watched him hold his weapon in one hand, muscles tightening pleasantly, and used his other hand to rub the back of my neck.

"It's, uh, good to see yer fine, I guess," he said with a nod, and I swear to have seen the edges of his lips turn upwards.

"Thank you," I nodded while watching him walk, or more so stomp, away. I turned back to the fire feeling more than confused about Daryl, the man who ultimately saved my life.

And, I wondered, when the hell I would be seein' him again.

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><p><em>That fuckin' deer better be 'round still.<em>

Daryl shouldered his crossbow and scowled as he hiked back towards camp. While Daryl was pissed about losing track of the deer from earlier that morning, he was using that inconvenience to hide from the fact that his mind constantly wandered to the girl he'd left at camp.

_Woman_, he would correct himself. She had looked well into her 20s; the title of 'girl' seemed wrong to him. Upon arriving at camp with her, Carol and Lori had pushed him out of the way as he placed her on the bed in the back of that godforsaken Winnebago. He hated it in there; the musty old curtains, the ratty shag carpet in the back. It all made him cringe.

But he sat in the front of the RV, at the cramped table, while the two women carefully inspected the bloodied and unconscious _woman. _Furiously rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb the entire time, fidgeting nervously, not admitting to even himself that he was silently hoping- praying- she hadn't been bitten or infected in any way.

When Carol had emerged from the back, she had smiled and Daryl had let out a deep sigh of relief; the girl-_woman_- was okay.

As he stepped foot back onto the campgrounds Daryl instantly noticed her. She was hunched over a plate of those nasty ass beans the women were constantly heating up. That's why he always brought back squirrels; because any meat was better than that shit.

She didn't look a whole lot better than she had a few hours earlier, besides the fact she was actually alert. Her hair was still a bloodied mess, but it seemed most of the red stains had been wiped from her legs and arms.

Courtesy of Carol, he was sure.

Sensing a presence, she looked up. Her eyes- green, but not like the foggy green of a walker, he noted, and darker than he'd thought- scanning him until noticing his crossbow and looking alarmed before what seemed to be embarrassed.

But, as embarrassed as she seemed to be, she didn't break eye contact with the hunter. Daryl scowled lightly, mostly out of default and only slightly out of confusion, before hastily sitting down, making sure to keep space between them.

Brinley, he mused. Not necessarily a name he'd heard before, but one he knew he wouldn't forget. She was tense, but not as tense as him. And as she stared at the fire pit in front of them, he stared at her long enough to have a million questions for her.

He knew now that she didn't want to die, but he wanted to know why. Did it have to do with those damn doe eyes of hers; and maybe that distant gaze she wore?

And where the _hell_ did all that blood come from?

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><p><strong>Janey: Thank you so much! Glad you liked it! :) <strong>

**TheBoelynLegacy: I'm so glad you like it! I hope you enjoyed this one too! Thank you so much for the good feeback! :) **

**Nelle07: Glad you liked it! I agree, the group definitely doesn't need more suicidal members; they've got plenty of their own! ;) haha but I don't think she'll end up that way.**

**Barcardivodka: Thank you, I really appreciate the feedback, and I hope you liked this one**

**Alina Maxwell: Thank you! Was this update soon enough? ;)**

**Leyshla Gisel: I was sad about Brinley's brother too, but it had to be done lol. I'm glad you liked it! :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Ohmygoodness. I can't thank you guys enough for the amazing feedback! I am more appreciative than you know! Once again, to those of you who have alerted, I love you!**

**I will say, this chapter is lame. And slightly repetitive, but i swear things will pick up soon :)**

**Anyways, I do hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>Brinley stood back by the ancient Winnebago as she watched the camp swarm the bright red and black sports car that had just sped its way up the hill, alarm blaring the whole way. She crossed her arms, looking on with curiosity as a young Asian man stepped out with a large grin.<p>

There was so much yelling and chatter; everyone was shouting questions at the poor kid, on top of Shane yelling at him about the alarm- which was still going by the way- even Brinley was feeling the anxiety of the situation.

Slowly, Brinley approached Dale, whom she'd begun to feel was like the grandfather of the group, and leaned slightly towards him. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.

"The rest of the group is coming back from their supply run. They left some time before you arrived this morning," he answered with a smile. Brinley nodded lightly and watched as Dale waved over the Asian boy, who strode over with a smile.

"Glenn, this is Brinley," Dale introduced. Brinley returned Glenn's smile and shook his hand gladly.

"'s nice to meet you," she said while Glenn nodded.

"How'd you find us?" he asked with intrigue.

"Actually, Daryl found her and brought her here," Dale told him. Glenn's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"No way," he responded. "Daryl, really?"

"Why is that so surprising?" Brinley asked. From what she'd seen, Daryl was a little awkward, sure, but over all seemed like a decent guy.  
>"Daryl doesn't care much for others," Glenn explained. "Keeps to himself mostly, that and just his brother Merle…"<p>

Glenn trailed his sentence off and scuffed his sneaker into the dirt below him, looking guilty at best. Brinley opened her mouth to respond when Carl cried out and captured their attention.

"Dad!" Carl went running past and into the arms of a man in a sheriff's get-up. The father fell to his knees, hugging his son tightly as he cried.

Brinley watch the reunion from afar as if she were watching one of her mother's soap shows; just a very believable one that had tears springing to her eyes. Brinley, herself, had grown up without her father. The bastard had abandoned his family while her mother had been pregnant with her, also leaving behind her older brother and sister. She never felt much towards her father besides a hint of anger on very few occasions. she figured out of all bad situations came something good, and her older brother was more than just good to her; they were best friends and James protected her more than she could've asked for.

Brinley ducked her head and excused herself quietly, heading towards the RV. She moved behind the large vehicle, out of sight of the others, and let out a shaky breath. For the first time all day she let her mind wander to thoughts of her older brother and covered her mouth with her hands and she sunk down onto the dirty ground.

She was nearly hysterical with tears flooding her vision, but trying her hardest to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the other's with her problems. Brinley caught her quiet sobs in her throat at the sound of gravel crunching under heavy steps. Looking up, she noticed a tall, lanky man with dark facial hair that was under the shade of a baseball cap. She could barely see his eyes until he surprised her by sitting down a few feet from her and gazing into the distance where you could see the far edges of the lake below.

"I lost my wife," he said calmly. "And my two children. They got them. The walkers, I mean."

Removing a hand from her mouth Brinley frowned deeply as she looked to the older man. "I am so sorry," she said quickly while hiccupping.

"It's gotten a little easier with time, but not much," he nodded. "Who'd you lose?"

"Everyone," she breathed uneasily. "But, my brother yesterday."

"I'm sorry for your loss," he frowned while fiddling with his hands in his lap.

"Thank you," she whispered while wiping her wet cheeks.

"I'm Jim, by the way," he said with a single nod, still staring into the distance. The younger girl turned her head to look at Jim and gave the solemn man a watery smile.

"Brinley," she sniffed. "And, really, I appreciate your kindness."

Jim shrugged simply before letting out a low sigh. "Saw Daryl bring you in this morning, was a real surprise to everyone."

"What was? Surprising, I mean?" she asked curiously, placing a hand on her chest, still calming down from the moment before.

"Besides the fact that Daryl was actually touching someone? The fact you were alive," he answered while glancing his eyes her way. "You should ask Lori for some soap, wash off that blood. You could use a clean start."

Brinley hadn't noticed before, but as Jim pointed it out, she looked down to see blood staining her legs and crusting onto her jean shorts; even the hair that fell from behind her ear was matted with it. She sucked in a startled breath as her hands began to shake.

"Oh, God," she murmured mournfully.

"Come on," Jim said with standing abruptly. Brinley nodded and followed suit, not bothering to brush the dirt from her after standing, and followed Jim quietly as he walked around the RV and approached Carol.

Carol glanced around Jim as he spoke softly and raised a dainty hand to her mouth. She was an absolute mess, Brinley was. Nodding to Jim, Carol disappeared into the Winnebago for only a moment before reappearing with a new set of neatly folded clothes, a towel, and a bottle of body wash.

She approached the new girl whose cheeks were stained with tears, and placed a comforting hand on her back. "Come with me, I'll help you get cleaned up," Carol spoke softly.

Brinley gave her a watery smile and nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

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><p>The next morning while sitting quietly beside the fire, breakfast was cut short for Brinley as the sound of the kids in the camp screaming tore her from her thoughts. She shot from her seat and took off into the woods with panic, along with the others. She hastily ducked under the line of tin cans that was strung up among the trees and reached out to tug Sophia behind her, passing her to her mother who grabbed her and held her close.<p>

They stood back and watched the first walker anyone had seen in weeks as it gnawed on the neck of a dead deer. Rick, Shane, Glenn, Dale and Jim pushed Brinley back even farther away as they surrounded the undead being. She glanced behind her to see Lori and Carol slowly take their children away from the undead and back towards camp.

Noticing the arrival of living company, the walker stood, blood dripping from its mouth, giving him an even more gruesome look. With a hiss he took a step towards the newcomer, Rick Grimes, who in turn swung out his tire iron and beat the walker back to the ground.

Taking turns, they each beat the absolute shit out of the walker until Dale finally swung an axe down and sliced easily through its neck. Brinley didn't waver as she stood back and watched. She noticed Amy and Andrea try to hold down their gag before turning and leaving quickly. Brinley was emotionless to this walker; had no remorse, just anger. And that scared her.

"I don't understand," Dale spoke first. "This is the first walker we've seen up here."

"Reckon they're runnin' outta food," Brinley spoke, causing the men to turn and look her way, surprised that she was still there and staring at the decapitated walker.

Jim nodded in agreement, "They're startin' to venture out."

A rustling in the woods behind then caught everyone's attention and immediately the men were on guard, holding up their weapons and pushing Brinley farther away- thanks to Jim. A moment later Brinley's breath caught in her throat as a familiar crossbow wielding hunter came through the trees and bushes with a look of aversion on his face.

"Sumbitch!" he clearly stated with a frown. "'s my deer!"

As Daryl came into the clearing the men backed away while lowering their weapons with sigh. Brinley stepped forward though, earning an eyebrow quirk from Glenn; she crossed her arms and watch Daryl with a curious gaze.

"Look at it, all gnawed on by this _filthy, diseased, motherless, proxy-bastard_," Daryl seethed and Brinley raised an eyebrow as she watched him kick the body of the corpse with each bulleted insult.

"Calm down son, that's not helping any," Dale spoke with what she noticed- and smiled at- was a small eyeroll.

"Whatta you know about it, old man?" he frowned while marching up to Dale. "Why don' ya take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?" Daryl scowled before turning and pulling his arrows out of the deer's hide. "Been trackin' this deer for miles; started before I found Brittany."

"Brinley," she corrected him quickly, her disappointment evident to everyone.

"Whatever. Whatta ya think, we can cut around this chewed up part righ' here?" he asked while motioning around the opened neck of the deer that'd been lunch for their walker friend.

"Can't risk that," Shane dismissed with a scowl.

"Damn shame," Daryl frowned while circling the deer again. "Well, I got some squirrel, so that'll have ta do."

He took a step away and the head of the walker somehow seemed to spring to life and opened its eyes before giving a few chomps to the air.

"Good, God," Brinley frowned while looking down at it from her spot a few feet away.

"C'mon, people. What the hell," Daryl said as he brought his crossbow in front of him and squinted, aiming one at the head.

She watched blankly as Daryl scoffed and easily shot an arrow into the hissing, decapitated walker head. Easily, he walked up and placed a boot on it and yanked out his arrow from its eye socket. "Gotta be the brain," he said as he shook his head and began to walk away, pushing past Brinley, completely unfazed.

"Don' you guys know nothin'?" he muttered. "Merle!"

The girl froze and let her eyes widen while remembering what she had over heard about Daryl's older brother. From what she'd had observed of the hunter's personality- which wasn't much- she knew it wasn't going to go over well. Quickly, Brinley paced forward towards him; she didn't know what she was going to do, or accomplish, but Brinley felt the need to so _something_ given what he had already done for her.

"Merle!" he called again while tossing down the line of dead squirrels by the fire. "Get yer ass out here. Got us some squirrel; stew 'em up!"

"Hey Daryl," Shane called. "I gotta talk to you." Daryl slowed his quick pace and turned to Shane with a suspicious gaze.

"'Bout what?" he asked hesitantly. Brinley sat down on the edge of a cheap fold out chair by the fire and watched intently as the men who'd traveled with Merle to Atlanta slowly, and remorsefully, approached Daryl.

"'Bout Merle," Shane stated. "There was a, uh, problem in Atlanta."

Daryl turned on his heals and started towards the taller man. "He dead?" he asked simply while glancing between the guys. Amy, Andrea, and Lori silently began to trickle out the RV upon hearing Daryl's voice through the camp. Everyone knew shit was about to hit the fan.

"We don't know," Shane spoke.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl snapped back quickly, causing brinley to flinch lightly.

Rick walked forward. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who're you?" Daryl asked bitterly while sizing up the new guy.

"I'm Rick Grimes."

"_Rick Grimes_," he mocked. "got somethin' you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was danger to all of us," Rick stated simply. "So, I handcuffed him to a roof connected to a piece of metal. He's still there."

Brinley's hand covered her mouth and she sighed, feeling utterly devastated for Daryl. Its one thing knowing you're brother is dead; it's the unknown that is so, _so_, much worse. It was also then that she noticed T-Dog returning to camp with fire would, a look of guilt washed over his face as he noticed the confrontation at hand.

Daryl wiped his face with his forearm, looking lost and defeated. "Let me process this," he spat. "You say you handcuffed my brother to a roof? And you left him there?"

Daryl's shouts had everyone tense as they continued to watch. Brinley gnawed on the tip of her thumb, feeling anxious.

"Yeah," Rick answered quietly, the regret dripping from his voice. Daryl seethed for a moment before lunging at Rick. No sooner had he moved, Shane tackled him to the ground. Brinley sprang to her feet quickly as T-Dog dropped the wood logs and rushed over. Everyone was on their toes as Shane quickly held Daryl down, arms entwined around his neck and head.

"You best let me go," he spat while struggling in Shane's hold.

"Naw," Shane replied. "Think it's better if I don't."

"Let 'im go!" Brinley shouted while hurrying closer. Morales shot his arm out and caught the small girl and pulled her back.

"The hell?" she shouted more. "Let him go!" Shane's eyes flickered over to the new girl and glared as he brought Daryl down farther.

Rick got down on one knee and looked straight to Daryl. "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic," he said. "Do ya think we can manage that?"

When Daryl didn't answer, Brinley tried to tug roughly from Morales's grip and groaned deeper. "Fuckin' let 'him go!"

Rick glanced from her to Shane and nodded light. Shane let go and shoved Daryl away. "What I did was not on a whim," Rick explained. "He was putting us all in danger, firein' off shots; he does not work and play well with other."

"s'not his fault," T-Dog said, finally standing out. "I had the key. I dropped it."

"Couldn' pick it up?" Daryl snapped, still breathing heavily from his spot on the ground.

"I dropped it down a drain," he replied with embarrassment.

Daryl pounded his fist against the dirt angrily before pushing himself up. "'s that s'posed ta make me feel better?" he asked while walking around them. "'Cus it don't."

"Maybe this will," T-Dog stated loudly. "I chained and padlocked the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at 'im."

"It's gotta count for somethin'," Rick said calmly.

Finally after giving Morales the worst glare Brinley could muster, he reluctantly let go of her arm and surrendered his hands to the air. She stalked to the Winnebago to get a bit closer, having a glare-down with Shane as she did so.

"Th' hell with all y'all," Daryl shouted, he voice clogged from the tears was fighting off as he wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.

"Jus' tell me where he is so I go get 'im," he said with red, sad, eyes. Brinley crossed her arms and looked away; rolling her lips together and pushing back her own tears at the whole display.

What the fuck was wrong with this camp; the guy just wanted his damn brother back. Why would you even chain a guy to a roof anyhow? It's the goddamn end of the world; no one should have time for that shit.

"He'll show you," Lori spoke, volunteering her husband for a trip back to the city. Brinley mouth dropped open a bit in surprise as she turned to stare at Lori. "Isn't that right?" the older woman asked while staring at her husband. On Lori's other side was Amy, mimicking Brinley's expression.

Finally, Rick nodded and looked to Daryl. "I'm goin' back," he said. Lori turned and pulled herself into the RV and Daryl turned on his heels, stomping towards his tent. Not even a fraction of a second later, Rick was following suit, striding off towards his own tent.

Brinley took a few steps out of the cover of the RV and stood in the middle of camp and ran her hands through her hair, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

Maybe death would've been a better option than Crazy Camp.

* * *

><p>Daryl heard the soft footsteps following him as he stomped furiously to his and Merle's tent. Honestly, he didn't care. He had bigger issues on his mind.<p>

_ Merle. _Those assholes left his brother chained to a roof; a fuckin' roof top. What kind of sick bastard does that, anyhow? He sure as hell never would've.

Ripping into his tent, Daryl quickly raised his hands and threaded them though his short hair, tugging lightly as he fought back more tears.

He _fucking cried_ in front of them all. Jesus Christ; Merle was right: he was a pansy ass.

"Daryl?"

He jumped at the sound of the soft voice and turned to see Brinley standing cautiously at the opening of his tent. As he looked over the small woman, he could help but mistaking her name; he'd done it purposely, actually. He wasn't going to give everyone another reason to think he was a pussy, especially now that they just witnessed him crying over his brother.

Daryl lowered his arms and let them hang at his side as he cocked an eyebrow at her. "I am so, so sorry," she spoke while taking a hesitant step into the tent. Her sympathy caught him off guard and he took a step back and swiped his thumb across his lips.

What the hell was she so sorry for? If she'd have met Merle, she'd be saying differently, he was sure.

"It's just…" Brinley paused and wrung her hands nervously. "I understand. And what they did was wrong."

"Thanks," Daryl finally answered. The kindness and sincerity in her voice was something that he wasn't very familiar with; especially since he had just met this woman the day before.

He concluded that she felt sorry for him, and pity was one thing Daryl Dixon neither wanted nor needed.

Brinley's eyes were wide with concern and confusion as Daryl continued by giving her a single nod and brushing past her, exiting the tent. "Honestly," she called after him lightly.

Daryl turned to her sharply and licked his lips. What the hell was she, a mind reader? Just what he needed: some girl to come around and pick apart his brain and confront his emotions. Screw that shit.

"I really hope you find him," she finished with a soft smile that somehow seemed to tug at Daryl's heart.

"Damn straight I will. He's chained to a roof, he ain't goin' no where."

* * *

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